


Perceptions

by sunlitroses



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: D/s, Flogging, Gratuitous Use of the World 'Damn', Nudity, Other, Ridiculous Amounts of H/C, Spanking, Strapping, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-06
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:30:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlitroses/pseuds/sunlitroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only problem with being perceptive was a certain inability to turn it off, which led from time to time to what he had come to call 'overload' and one of his previous, and admittedly nerdy, partners had called 'a system crash.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breakdown

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired (or perhaps to be blamed upon), by a passing comment a few weeks back on how Will needed to be spanked after a few scenes in Season 4. Which led me to wondering exactly how that would come about. I mean, if there was a logical *reason*... yeah, and then I got this story.

Will shifted restlessly again, paying attention to Kate's debrief on the new amphibious abnormal with difficulty. Most of what she was saying he had already deduced when she walked in the door, anyway. Location: East side, started in a back alley, wound through the dungeons, finished down by the river. Creature: Primarily two-legged, could rise up on its back legs for defense, about five feet in length. His eyes pounded the details across the front of his mind every time he glanced at Kate. He was trying to avoid doing that anymore.

Not that looking anywhere else was much better. Henry had spent the night up again, but didn't get what he wanted accomplished done and was down about it. Will made a mental note to find some way to cheer him up later. Maybe get him a better lunch, as all he had for breakfast was some Cheetos and one of those energy drinks he was so fond of downing. Running a hand over his face, his eyes roved to find another subject to settle on before he learned too much more about Henry's relationship with Erica.

The Big Guy was never a safe target. When he caught Will staring, painful things happened to his head. The room wasn't really catching his attention, either. Granted, the pictures blazed across his temples the same as always, photos of Magnus and various people Will had only read of in history books. The tea service indicated that she had, for once, a relatively sedate morning and quite possibly some actual sleep the night before. Reminded of his final choice of distraction, he glanced over at Magnus, only to find that she was already scrutinizing him back.

Normally, he knew, this would worry him. Today, however, nothing could touch the state he was in and he contented himself with briefly passing his eyes over her before pretending to focus on Kate once more. Well, her scarf at least. Yes, Magnus had definitely gotten some sleep and a leisurely tea this morning, scone included. Another Sanctuary had called not long before the meeting, though – her bracelets were sitting on the desk and she always took those off for a teleconference in her office.

Luckily, about the time that his head started to ache from picking out the colors of that damned scarf and shading them in chromatic order, Kate finished her spiel and Magnus dismissed the meeting. Before she could catch him to deliver some sort of reprove for his wandering attention, Will hustled Henry out the door and towards the kitchens.

As he lost himself in shop talk with Henry and preparing his very best grilled cheese sandwiches, Will tried to push the pounding of his head further away. It lasted through lunch, but afterwards Will cradled his head in his hands at his desk and accepted that he would have to do something about this and soon.

Normally – and he was beginning to hate that word – he would already have dealt with the problem at the first symptom. Now he had Abby, however, and that was a stumbling block he couldn't logic his way around. Resigned, he picked up his cell and selected her number.

"Hey, Abby? Yeah, would you have time to meet up tonight?"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Will woke up the next morning, his temper had gotten a head start on him and greeted him joyfully. He sat up in bed and talked himself out of throttling the pillow, the damn bird outside of his window, and the stone wall for daring to look so damn implacable. This was not going to be a good day.

Last night had been… well, he couldn't really think about last night in his current frame of mind or the wall wouldn't make it through until the afternoon unscathed.

He had known that Abby didn't really believe in his perceptive abilities. Perhaps, 'believe' was the wrong word. She obviously accepted that he was perceptive, just not that he picked up as much as he truly did.

"You've built it up in your head that you're some kind of Sherlock Holmes, Will. It's cute. But no one sees that much. You see a lot, I know, but come on. Don't you think that you see a few things and then just hypothesize based on what people say to you? It's all behavioral."

Will felt he should have known back when she issued that statement that he could never convince her otherwise. If he recalled correctly, he'd made some statement about how observing behavior was still observing and moved onto a less painful subject. He'd had enough people doubt his word in his life; he didn't need it from Abby, too.

All of which made his current situation rather precarious. The problem with his perceptiveness was his inability to turn it off, which led from time to time to what he had come to call 'overload' and one of his previous and admittedly nerdy partners had called 'a system crash.' Over time he'd come up with his own ways to deal with it and it wasn't as though he expected Abby to step into the breach. He knew at least two guys and a girl in the city who could give him a 'forced reboot,' as it were. If only he wasn't so damn honest.

Will was at the core, however, fiercely honest and so had told Abby about his predicament. Disappointingly, but understandably, she decided to be vehemently opposed to the entire idea. It was all in his head and if he couldn't be stronger than this, they were over. To which Will had said, after a long period of trying to reason with her: fine, we're done. His continued mental health was a little more significant than catering to her prejudices about him and what he needed. All of which would have ended as well as it might, except for the bit where she flat-out threatened him with the most embarrassing arrest known to man should he seek his 'reboot' anywhere in the city.

Falling back against his pillow, Will contemplated suffocating himself now and getting the torture over. He hadn't tried to ride out a crash in years. For good reason. The last one had landed him in the hospital trying to explain to all and sundry that no, he wasn't on drugs and yes, he did feel fine and no, he didn't need to be admitted for a psych eval. Still, he was older now and at least knew what was happening. If need be, there were all sorts of good drugs down in the infirmary. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Resigned, Will sat up once more and threw his legs over the side of the bed. There was a terrible day just waiting to be started. On his way to the bathroom he punched the wall. Just on principle.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Terrible, as it turned out, was something of an understatement. It seemed as though the knowledge that he wasn't going to get any relief from his senses had actually kicked them into overdrive. Everything from the walls inward screamed at him, full volume. Will's tenuous grasp on his temper was eroding fast.

Kate punched him after he remarked on the odd slant of her hips and pieced it together with the gossip the weight room had shoved at him to come up with a rather entertaining picture of her workout session gone wrong. That would teach her to say 'hey' after obviously having eaten the last of the bacon. Though he couldn't really imagine eating, he was too tense.

The Big Guy had already smacked him over the head twice. The second time actually quite hard. Will didn't want to think about what he said, but he knew that he deserved it. From the sinking sensation he vaguely felt, he'd probably be suffering from some guilt should he survive today.

Luckily, Henry had walled himself up in his lab all day. Aside from a few quips that stung satisfyingly sharper than they should, Will didn't think he'd be mauled by a HAP today. At least, not yet.

Head pounding and stomach churning with delayed guilt, Will locked himself in his office before he could compound the damage. Or run into Magnus, who showed few qualms about shooting people.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took a week of snapping and hurting before Will gave in and snuck down to the infirmary. One more day of this and he had no doubt someone in the building would toss him off the North Tower. As he selected drugs with shaking hands, Will considered that he might even thank them. Every day he was seeing more and more as the previous day's pileup was layered with the new information of the day. That was only the visual front, where he had always relied the most for his perceptions; now, his other senses swung wildly between ramping up their own perception to heap more data on his heavy plate and dying completely. The latter had led to a very awkward conversation with Kate, when his hearing cut out mid-argument. She had wound up punching him. He still had no idea what had happened.

Will finished making his haul of drugs and grabbed a couple of syringes and swabs. Furtively, he made his way to a little used room in the South Tower and spread his stash out. For a moment, he let his head rest in his hands and resisted the urge to cry. Then, he swiftly scrubbed his face with his palms and started to assemble a cocktail that would hopefully save his sanity.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the morning, Will woke up in the same room and made a mental note not to try that again. His brain seemed less active as he struggled to peel himself off the floor, but anything would be in comparison to the deluge of last night. No, one night spent in a near-catatonic state from the drugs ripping the rest of his senses open was more than enough.

Unable to think enough to consider how to get rid of his mess, Will swept everything into a dusty cabinet and hoped it would stay unused until he recovered. Task complete, he stumbled towards his bed. He'd already missed the staff meeting. It wasn't like he'd been a very useful member this week, anyway.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the drug debacle, Will resigned himself to attempting to wait it out and hope that, eventually, his body would calm the hell down. In a bid to save everyone else's sanity, at least, he tried to minimize his social interactions. Getting through his daily caseload was difficult enough, but at least he was sought for his perceptions, then.

It worked – in an incredibly loose definition of the term – for almost another week.

That was the point where he found himself in a screaming match in the middle of Helen Magnus' office.

Will was almost positive Kate started it, though he couldn't remember what she said to provoke him. To be fair, he couldn't remember what he said either, so it was all very up in the air. Ultimately, however, it wound up with the two of them inches apart with Kate utilizing her own brand of knowledge and creative cussing as Will, almost with gratitude at the excuse, unloaded every piece of information he had collected about her in his most cutting manner. He could almost feel his headache diminishing. Until the point where Henry's shock wore off enough that he decided to run and find Magnus posthaste.

"Enough!"

One word in that clipped British tone was all it took to cut through the argument. Will swayed as his headache returned full force and Kate backed away to begin defending herself to Magnus.

"No," Magnus put paid to her effort with a sharp shake of her head and pointed towards the door, "I believe there are several enclosures on the catacomb level that could be cleaned out for future residents." Will almost winced at that; those cells were disgusting. "Go," was her final word on the matter when Kate seemed about to protest. Self-preservation instincts kicking in at last, Kate closed her mouth and went.

"Thank you, Henry," she nodded at the man who hovered near the door. He bobbed his head in acknowledgement before gratefully fleeing.

"As for you," Magnus' eyes narrowed as she focused on Will. He frantically tried to find where he'd put the leash for his temper. Blowing up at Helen Magnus was not a good idea. She had a wicked temper herself and little compunction about shooting people. As Tesla could attest. "I think we're overdue for a little chat."

"I needed to talk to you about…" he began, only to be abruptly cut off as Magnus stepped closer, into his personal space.

"No," she said simply.

Will could feel his temper welling up, the misplaced pain and frustration from his senses seeking any out, even one as self-destructive as yelling at her. Before he could give in to the impulse, however, he felt a sharp pain in his earlobe that worsened as she began to twist. Involuntarily, he focused in on the sensation and the relief from his omnipresent perceptions was so vast that he leaned into her hand for a moment, unthinking.

His eyes snapped open – when had they closed? – as he realized what he'd done and he tried to pull away only to have her tug him back and assess his face closely.

"Definitely overdue," she murmured before releasing him. "Come along."

He stared at her blankly for a moment as she motioned towards the door, rubbing his earlobe.

"Now, William," her tone dropped to the register she used only at her most dangerous and he took a step towards the door almost against his will before he balked and started to turn away.

The next moment, his arm was grabbed by her strong hand and used to yank him over to her. Before he could protest, two firm slaps fell against his backside.

"We can take this elsewhere now or I can put you over my knee here first and then take this elsewhere," she stated calmly once she had his attention.

Will thought his face was actually on fire as he stepped towards the door. What was she doing? It hadn't escaped his attention that she retained his arm as they headed into the hallway. The reason became apparent as she tugged him away from the residential hallway and the offices towards the South Tower. There wasn't anything in the South Tower, why would they go there? Its solitude was why he had chosen it for his little drug experiment… with a sinking feeling, Will wondered if she had found out about that. He hadn't exactly covered his tracks very well. Despite the fact that he was legally able to prescribe, Magnus had a problem with him self-medicating for any reason. He blamed Watson and his cocaine problem.

His steps began to slow as they neared the South Tower until Magnus' hand tightened around his arm. Will knew that she was strong – he had certainly seen her take down enough bad guys – but he was beginning to think he had underestimated the amount of time she spent in the gym.

Once inside, they bypassed the little off-room that Will had used before and continued down the hall, further into the tower. Several doors down, Magnus indicated that he should precede her into the room, punctuating her order with another sharp smack when he lingered in the doorway.


	2. Warm Up

Will's first thought, once he was in the room and had a chance to look around, was that he had finally found the dungeon that came with the castle. The stone walls were unrelieved by any of the landscapes that Magnus liked to hang on the walls and – were those shackles? He turned to twit Magnus about the décor at the same time as she breezed past him into the room. Frowning, he studied what was behind him and, slightly panicked, moved to check the door. Locked. Where was the key?

He whirled around again and watched with trepidation as Magnus pulled a straight-backed chair into the center of the room before seating herself on it. Finally, she looked over at him and beckoned with one hand.

"Come here."

Will shook his head and turned to examine the lock once more. Maybe he could learn to pick locks in five seconds? He heard a sigh echo behind him and registered that it was sympathetic – but tinged with exasperation, which did not bode well for him at all.

"We both know you need this and, for whatever reason, you haven't sought it out for yourself. That's your prerogative," Magnus conceded and he let out a breath of his own, maybe he had misread the situation, "up until it begins to harm you and potentially others." Maybe not. "Then it becomes my responsibility. Now, come here."

This time, Will didn't even turn around. She had to have placed the key somewhere nearby. He began to scrutinize the stonework and shelves close at hand.

"If I have to come and get you, William, you will not like the consequences," he believed that dark tone, but he couldn't just walk to her like this was right. Why couldn't Abby have left well enough alone? He was sliding his hand over the nearest shelf, feeling for any abnormalities in the wood when he heard her rise behind him. His stomach sank and his throat went dry.

As he heard her footsteps near Will turned to place his back firmly against the wall. She stopped in front of him, but made no further moves. After a moment, he looked up at her.

"Will," Magnus said softly, reaching for him, "It's alright."

Confused at the sudden shift, he let her tug him away from the wall, uncertain if he should let his guard down. She embraced him closely and began running her hands over his back. Slowly relaxing, despite his still pounding headache and the old stories that were leaping at him from the stones, Will leaned into her and brought his arms up to loosely catch around her waist.

The lilac scent Magnus gave off brought to mind a million other thoughts and connections, almost distracting him from her first words when she began to speak. "It's too much right now, isn't it? Your senses are bringing you too much information and you can't begin to process it all. You're on edge and in pain and trying to work through it, right?"

All Will could do was nod against her shoulder. One day he would figure out how she always knew these things.

"I know you usually seek out help in the city, but you haven't," he tensed at that, before she softly shushed him and continued, "and you don't have to tell me why. But we both know that you need this," she brought one hand up from his back to run through his hair. Done, her hand settled firmly around the base of his neck. "Do you trust me to do this for you?"

Will didn't say anything for a moment. Magnus was too many other things to him, how could he give her yet another piece of himself? Yet he knew that he had been tempted since her first order in the office, when his body blindly obeyed against his will. As well as he could from beneath the seething data streaming across his brain, he tried to pick out how he felt about this. Scared, obviously. If this went wrong, it could damage everything they had, everything he needed. Fearful that her regard would change, that she would lose all respect for him. Beyond his surface concerns, however, he mainly felt – relief. Safety. If Magnus took charge in this, took charge of him, he didn't have a moment's doubt that she would not let him fall into the nightmare that his mind had become, nor would she seriously hurt him. He balanced those out for a moment in his head.

Ultimately, safety and his desperation to feel like himself again won out against the fear.

"Yes," he whispered into her shoulder, knowing that she would need to hear this answer, not just assume it from a nod.

"Okay," she stated softly. Will tensed, expecting something to change, but she continued to simply hold him. His tension eased after a long moment, which let his senses take over again and he began to fidget in her embrace against the knowledge of when the shackles were added to the walls and the obvious lines of pacing worn into the stones near the window. At his first twitches, Magnus pulled back and led him with a firm hand towards the chair. She let go of him when she moved to sit down.

"Knees," she snapped out and he carefully sank down, but shied away from her hands that reached out to him once more.

"Stay still," she ordered in her I-mean-it voice and Will froze. He belatedly tried to move away again when her hands descended to undo his jeans and shove them and his boxers to his knees, but by then Magnus had a hold on his ear and a hand under his chest. In a move that he couldn't follow, particularly given the pain in his ear that she was using to direct him forwards, she swiftly had him over her lap.

"Hands on the floor," came the next order and he blindly reached out to take some of the pressure off of his chest. He took a few deeper breaths, only to realize that his pants were now at his ankles and his shirts were being pushed upwards even as he wriggled slightly to adjust to being suddenly upended. Only the mounting pain in his head kept him from being completely mortified. What had he been thinking? This was his boss, he couldn't just let her strip him and… stuff like he was a child. This was a mistake.

Will tried to shift backwards off of her lap, but Magnus now had one of those stronger-than-expected arms over his back and wasn't inclined to let him go anywhere. Further wiggling was halted abruptly by a firm smack to his backside and clearly his jeans had been shielding him better than he knew, because that really hurt.

"I might have left the boxers, had you come when I first called," she informed him airily, before continuing. "Now this, I'll admit, isn't strictly decompressing. This is a bit of punishment, first," Magnus stated, sounding implausibly calm. Didn't she see that he was mostly naked here?

"Punishment?" he voice sounded annoyingly breathy from his awkward position, "For what?"

A sharp blow fell and he wheezed out harshly. When had she gotten a paddle?

"Why don't you tell me that, William?"

William. Yeah, that was definitely a sign that this was not boss-Magnus anymore. This was clearly her evil twin who really, really knew how to use that damn paddle, he concluded as she delivered another precisely placed spank. He should probably answer the question if he wanted to sit down in the near future.

"For Kate? And the argument? In your office?" he breathed out through gritted teeth. He was not going to cry out.

"That's a good place to start." Will almost whimpered at that. Start?

Then, the paddle began to fall methodically in time with a lecture he only caught the highlights of, mainly about appropriate behavior. His resolve about crying out gave out near the end. There was just something about yelling that just made it easier to bear.

"Do you understand?" At that particular moment, all he understood was that his posterior was quite possibly on fire and that the paddle had stopped for a moment. After he breathed for a minute, the paddle gave a soft warning tap, "William?"

"Yes, yes I understand," he blurted out swiftly, "I'll behave appropriately in the future. And apologize to Kate," he added in a burst of genius. Maybe that would help him.

"Good. Now, what else?"

Will combed his mind and could only come up with this horrible condition of his, "These past few weeks? I've been… mean," he admitted, ashamed of himself, "and not really very helpful."

He expected the smack that came next, but couldn't control his yell. Okay, he just wouldn't cry. That was a better goal. Unexpectedly, another blow didn't come.

"Yes, that's true, but I think that might fall under the category of appropriate behavior. Which I believe you just promised to amend?"

"Yes, Yes, I did," he practically stumbled over his tongue to get out. Could that possibly be all?

"Now, what else?"

"Uh," Will stuttered. What else had he done? Everything over the past few weeks had been included in his last statement. Did she want confessions from a year ago or something?

The paddle tapped him lightly. "If I have to say it, this will be twice as bad, William."

His mind abandoned his sensory intake for a moment to frantically comb through his memories. Did she consider his actions towards anyone in particular separate from the general behavior clause? Everything these past few weeks could be tied back to that: his nasty comments, his lax behavior, even missing the staff… uh-oh.

Magnus knew about the Great Infirmary Raid.

He squirmed on her lap before he asked, in a very small voice, "The drugs?"

The smack he received in response told him two things: one, Magnus indeed knew about his self-medication and two, somehow she had actually been holding back until now. This time the lecture was delivered with only the occasional spank. He was pretty sure that couldn't be a good sign.

"After over a week of erratic behavior, you fail to appear at the staff meeting, contact no one about it, and cannot be found. I, foolishly, assume that you were delayed in the city taking care of this."

Smack!

"What do I find instead upon coming here to lock this room down again, but signs that someone had been occupying the room next door and a stash of highly dangerous, mind-altering drugs shoved in a cupboard?"

Smack!

"Do you have any idea how it felt to realize that, given the levels of the bottles, you had taken enough alone of several different drugs to render you severely impaired if not catatonic and that you had the sheer idiocy to mix them? How terrifying it was to know that I might only find your body?"

Smack! If he hadn't been regretting his actions after the comedown from the drugs, he was certainly regretting them now.

"And then to comb the building only to find you in your room, unconscious, without having taken the slightest precaution against drug reaction?"

Smack! Will renewed his efforts to move away at the new edge to the biting stings. Definitely holding back before.

"Do you know what might have happened had I not found you? Not stabilized and monitored you?"

She punctuated each possibility with a spank.

"A coma. Drowning in your own vomit. Asphyxiation from an allergic reaction. A vegetative state."

Smack!

"You could have died, William."

"I just wanted it t-to stop," he gasped out, choking on his tears. Clearly his resolution not to cry hadn't fared well.

"You almost got your wish," Magnus stated flatly before proceeding to lay on with the paddle, uninterrupted.

By the time she stopped, Will was promising almost incoherently through his sobs that he would never take any drugs ever again. She let him stammer on until his sobs lessened before responding.

"If you ever take anything not prescribed by a doctor again, William, I will make this seem like nothing. Consider this," she smacked him lightly with her hand, which was enough pressure on the field of pain that his backside had become to force another sob out of him, "should the thought ever even cross your mind."

"It won't, I promise, I promise," he forced out, chest heaving with the effort.

"It better not." He braced himself for another round with the paddle, but the next blow didn't descend. Instead, her hand began to run over his back lightly as he tried to catch his breath and stop crying. As his breathing began to slow, Magnus stopped rubbing to reach down and remove his shoes, pants, socks, and boxers. Will tensed and his breathing took on a ragged edge once more, but she simply returned to stroking his back again. After a time, he thought to try and push his chest further off of her legs to take a deep breath. At the movement, Magnus pulled him upwards and slipped him off her lap to settle between her knees. Will carefully knelt to avoid putting pressure on anything sensitive and avoided looking at her face. His own must certainly be a mess.

Despite his efforts, Magnus took hold of his chin and pulled him to look up at her, "Better?"

He mutely nodded, taking a deep breath and trying not to sniff too loudly.

"Should we work on decompressing you, then?"

Will rejected the idea violently, shaking his head and wishing that he was brave enough now to move away from her.

"William," he stilled and looked up at her again, trying not to appear scared. He could see the hundreds of small signals that indicated her softening at his expression and decided that he had probably failed in his endeavor. "No more spanking, I promise. But you do need to be distracted and set whatever is trapped in that bright mind of yours free, you know that."

She was right, Will knew, but needing something was not the same as wanting it. Magnus was already better at this than anyone he had previously gone to, partly he suspected because she knew him so very well. He wouldn't be able to pull the same tricks to minimize what he said and what happened to him. He shifted closer to her, trying to recapture the certainty he'd had in the brief moments when he'd agreed to trust her with this… mess. With him.


	3. Heat Strokes

"You're overthinking," Magnus said softly, reaching up to cradle his head with one hand. Casting shame by the wayside, he reached out and she let him hug her, holding him for a minute before pushing him away with a soft kiss to his temple. Whether it was the scent of lilacs or the moment of affection, he let the renewed feeling of security lend him bravery. A feeling he needed when she efficiently stripped him of his shirts, leaving him naked at her feet. "Come. Up."

Will let her pull him to his feet, wincing as the movement burned through his backside. Once standing, she let go and pointed behind him.

"Stand with your nose to the wall."

He obeyed, trying to focus his mind on the lingering pain of his paddling rather than the scratches etched in the side of the nearby cabinet and the remnants of scorch marks hiding in the corner.

"Good boy," Will heard close behind him as Magnus placed her hands on his arms. "Now stretch upwards."

He reached up as far as he could, at an angle away from his head in accordance with where her arms directed him. At his furthest limits, she pulled him still upward and he rose onto his toes to obey. The shackles that were quickly snapped on when he reached the outer limits of his reach indicated that this might have been a mistake. Will was still processing this new development when he realized that Magnus was kneeling behind him as another set of cuffs bound his feet to the floor.

"Stay," was breathed into his ear and then Magnus stepped away and, if his ears were to be believed, began to rummage through the cabinet to one side of him. His hearing joined up with his mind gone haywire and began to formulate theories based upon previously observed details, meanwhile he continued to pick up hints of stories from the mortar lining the stone before him and dry feel of the stone beneath his feet. Restrained from pacing, Will began to lightly tap his forehead against the wall, counting prime numbers under his breath. He'd made it into the hundreds when a hand interposed itself between his head and the wall.

"None of that," the voice was stern, "Now pay attention. If this becomes too much for you, your safe word is 'James,' understood?"

"Right. James," he repeated mechanically.

"Good boy. Now, you're doing fine in cuffs and the paddle," she lightly pressed against his backside and chuckled when he both winced and leaned into her simultaneously, "seems to be fine. Is there anything I need to know? What don't you like, William?"

He tried to focus on her question through the fog of his thoughts. Didn't like? Did that matter?

"No?" he answered uncertainly.

"Hm," Magnus didn't seem happy with his answer, "We'll check that as we go along, I think. Listen to me, William."

The demanding order focused his senses completely onto Magnus as she continued, "I think we'll start out slow. Feel this?" Something soft and rounded ran up his side and back down, "It won't even leave a mark," she paused for a moment. "You'll just think it did."

He felt her move away once more and lingered in a valley of trepidation until he heard the first soft whistling sound and braced himself. The blow landed in multiple locations – clearly a cat of some sort – and felt like small rocks hitting against his right side. It was different than anything he'd tried before, a different kind of sting at impact.

Several more volleys landed and Will was impressed with her skill in directing the blows. Some of his concern fled and he relaxed slightly into the bonds. The feeling was not dissimilar to a really intense massage, only a bit more painful.

"I'm curious as to why there is still silence, William," Magnus' voice, dark and low, rolled over him, "Surely you know what I expect at this juncture."

He didn't entirely know how to respond to that statement. It was true, he knew what needed to be done, but he normally didn't begin until the pain was almost overwhelming. In response to his silence, the blows took on a harsher edge, graduating from small rocks to lead weights. He squirmed against the wall, but couldn't evade the lash.

"Too soon," Will ground out through his teeth as he pressed himself against the wall.

The next blow fell on the marks from his paddling and he tried to meld himself into the wall.

"You don't get to decide that, William," the deep voice bit through the pain in his head, "Start talking. What do you see right now?"

"Uh, um," Will stuttered until another blow fell to one side of the previous one. He shouted out, "The stones! And, and the edges are weathered at different rates, so they were probably part of a previous construction. Demolished? Weathering isn't right for that; they were taken down deliberately to build this tower."

He rambled on about the stones, the lash striking him whenever he faltered. Running down on that topic, he frantically switched to the stones underfoot. The sounds he could hear echoing down the corridors. Then, various hypotheses on the elements of the room, the manufacturer of the cat-tail variation she was using, her outfit for the day – loose hair to tight boots over trousers – which somehow led him to the Sanctuary. He stumbled over his words then, flinching under the blows, and mumbling nonsense.

"William."

At the warning tone, he shrank into the stones as much as possible, panting tiny sobs, but couldn't muster a coherent sentence. Sinking his forehead into the stones, Will shook it back and forth repeatedly, lost in a deluge of Sanctuary-information. Henry's eating habits and Kate's new gun and the Big Guy's latest experiment with liquor and sage and the disgruntlement of the new intake with light and Magnus' unpleasant new tea blend and the subtle shifting of various infirmary equipment and the stripes in the carpet of his office, blue and yellow, and on and on and on.

A hand interposed between his head and the stones at the same moment a hand came down sharply across the still-tender paddling marks. He gasped, centered on the sensation, a temporary life raft from the plunging madness.

"I said none of that, William," Magnus reinforced the order with another spank before she moved from his side. After a moment in which he frantically concentrated on the slowly ebbing pain, she returned to run an object over his back.

"Do you know what this is?" Closing his eyes, Will concentrated on the details he could pick out over the subtle ache in his back. His nose twitched. It was leather, also broad and approximately the length of an arm. The dimensions itched at his mind; he knew that shape. Spinning, his mind flipped through a whirl of images until it presented him with the likeliest prospect. He shivered.

"William."

"Strap," he half-asked, already knowing the answer.

"Very good," Magnus drawled. "Now, be a good boy and start talking. Maybe I won't have to give you more than, oh, a dozen?" Her voice took on a wicked edge.

A dozen with that strap? Will whimpered, his overactive mind easily conjuring up the impact pattern and force and probable pain. Talking, he needed to talk, about something, about what? He froze, panting and panicked.

He didn't notice Magnus moving away until the strike burned across his skin. With a yell, he bowed backwards, then forwards within the limits of the restraints, careful at the last minute not to let his forehead touch the wall.

"Ah, ah," he panted, "The new intake, northerly, possible bear offshoot, cave dwelling plausible. Hates light, unfamiliar, eyes ill-adapted to more than hazy light source. Meat-eating, scavenger over predator, predation possible in extremity."

After the second strike, given when he faltered under a new rush of past information, Will's mind short-circuited the process, sending unprocessed streams of data straight to his mouth, bypassing any critical decision-making point. His understanding of what was falling from his lips blurred in and out.

"…understand not liking that new blend, it's got an extract of cinnamon in it, normally good, but this batch is flawed, provider hoped it wouldn't be noticed, but marked the labels to slip it by tasters, insider only provided unmarked to be tasted, ought to take it back…"

"That new gun of Kate's tested well, she was walking with that jaunt she gets when she's feeling invincible and she won't let Henry take it away from her. He's been working too late, though, and he's worried about the distance from Erica, and he really needs to eat something besides ham sandwiches and Red Bull…"

"…talked to Abby and…"

At Abby's name, Will wrenched control of his mind back from autopilot. Not that, anything but that, what else could he say? The strap derailed his scrambling process as his voice dwindled down to gibberish again.

"Damn it!" His vocabulary dwindled to profanity as he battled with his mind to keep Abby out of this… whatever. The strap fell again too soon and he pressed himself into the stone.

"If I wanted to hear that sort of language, I'd take myself down to the docks," Magnus said coldly. "Try again, William."

His mind and body reached an agreement. No Abby, no more pain. Deal.

Sobbing between words, Will roughly crept back into a litany of paperwork and patients, trying to protect what privacy he could. Dimly, he registered that Magnus didn't strap him for stumbling over those lapses. His shoulders smoothed out and he let himself slip back under, autopilot taking control once more.

"… worried about the position that puts him in, since… no, can't tell, shouldn't tell? I don't know… ma'am, ma'am, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please…"

"What happened next?" Magnus calmly interposed, running a heavy hand down one half of his back, "After he spoke with you."

Relieved, Will picked up the thread and pushed back into her hand, neck relaxing as he felt himself drifting away from whatever had him so concerned. It didn't matter.

He floated contentedly, focusing on the humming in his veins and nothing else, drawing breath to continue the litany that was making Her happy. From his seat at the back of his mind, he watched minutiae flicker and fade over his consciousness. Curtains and silverware and worn-out knees of pants and curls of silver wire slipped from vision to word to sound. Worn and weary, he drained the Sanctuary dry of detail, before his mind flicked further afield. Old City: stores, people, creatures, Abby. Abby. All that was left. All that he was clinging to, trying to hide, buried details and pain.

No.

He dropped back into the front of his head with alarming swiftness, dragging her name back from his lips, crying out as his brain jerked back into manual and crashed. Instead of the expected blow, he felt the slow burn of pain as Magnus pressed along his back, mouth breathing over the shell of his ear.

"It occurs to me that there is a question you haven't answered."

Please, please no.

"Why didn't you seek this in the city?"

He whimpered, forehead all but touching the stones as he bowed away from the demanding voice.

"No, no, no, please no, please…"

The warmth deserted his back abruptly and the strike that followed had him pushing his chest into the wall and craning his neck backwards. Will leaned his forehead against his left arm, gasping for breath between shaking sobs. The warmth returned, fingers ghosting over his new stripe.

"Tell me. Now."

"A, Ab," he tried to stop his clattering tongue, forced his sobs to muffle the sound.

Fingers pressed into the burning stripe.

Will buried his shout in his arm, before accepting that she would not let this go. He gave up trying to control it. "Abby," he whispered.

"What about her?" A whiplash of a response.

"Didn't like it," he tripped over his tongue trying to force the words out, "Tried, I tried to tell her. I did. I promise. Please, I did…"

A lighter brush from one side of the stipe to the other halted his apologies.

"You told her." She knew that. Good. He felt his fists loosen from their tight clench. "Then what happened?"

"She said. She didn't. She… I'm not lying!" It was almost a shout, but the flash of rage faded under a wash of sick uncertainty, "I'm not, I didn't… don't make things up. Don't assume and judge and guess and make myself look good. Need to feel important. Built up delusion. False sense of…" Despair choked off his voice and substituted sobs unlike those forced by Magnus, softer, hurt and wounded.

The thumb dragging down his back, fingernail digging in ever so slightly, was almost welcome.

"What did Miss Abby do next?" He shivered under that voice. Angry and dark and he shouldn't have stopped talking, she was mad at him and he didn't mean to do that. Will struggled to spit words out quickly as possible.

"Told me. Couldn't go. Arrest or not quite, but embarrassing. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, we don't need that, I thought, I think? Can't afford it, be bad for us. I'm sorry, I didn't… what do I do? I don't, I don't know and I'm sorry and…" he squirmed in the bonds, twisting his wrists against the inner padding of the cuffs. That padding frustrated him. He couldn't force it to dig into his wrists like he wanted. He huffed and struck the wall with his fists. That was almost as good. Before he could repeat it, though, the strap blazed across his back once more. Will hadn't even heard her move.

"No." Pressed against his back once more, she deliberately leaned against the stripe. "You don't get to decide when you get pain. I do." Magnus' fingers threaded through his hair, pulling his head back until he could see the ceiling. Her lips almost touching his ear, he could feel her breath whispering into the canal as she demanded, "Do you understand."

"Y-yes, ma'am," he whispered, closing his eyes tightly.

"That's the third time I had to remind you," she stated casually.

He tried not to whimper and failed.

With a final tug, she released his head and he could hear her opening the cupboard doors. Drained, he let his head fall against his arm once more.

The silky feel of nylon threads crossing over his back brought him up again.

"What do I have, William?"

He didn't need to evaluate this one, but he took a minute to process the finer details in relief. "Flogger. Unraveled." He heard the last word come out on a relieved sigh.

"Good boy. Six and we're done. Count them for me. I'll be most displeased if I have to start over."

Unraveled, the strings reawakened the pain of the previous blows, but caused minimal new damage. Drowsily, Will let his wrists take his weight and sank into the fall of the strikes, struggling to remember to count through the renewing haze.


	4. Leveling Off

"Hmm, six," he heard himself slur. Then She was at his back once more and he pressed against her, thrilling at the new wave of sluggish pain it brought.

"Sh, now," She shushed and he registered dimly that he must have hummed out loud. "You were very good, laddie."

He melted under the praise, turning his head towards where Her voice was breathing along his cheek and leaning towards it. Rubbing Her thumb along his cheekbone, She let him have a moment, before sinking away from him. Will whimpered at the loss until he felt the bindings around his feet fall away. His ankles felt cold and he shivered. Her warm weight returned and he calmed, leaning into it from where his weight still hung from his wrists.

"Stand up now."

Will haltingly obeyed, commanding slow limbs to respond and take his weight once more. Patiently, She waited until he stood shakily on the balls of his feet.

"Very nice." She approved and the cold stone retreated further.

Wrapping an arm around his waist, She reached up and unclasped his left wrist. He was still adjusting to the shift when the right one was freed as well. Colder and feeling unmoored, Will falteringly tried to turn into Her.

"It's okay, sweetie," She soothed, hands running carefully down his sides. "Come here."

Taking his hands, She moved a few paces ahead of him and he stumbled after Her presence. When he whimpered, She stopped and let him clumsily fall into Her, quieting him down before pulling away again. At last, She pulled him against something soft and gently coaxed him to lay down on his front.

Closing his eyes, Will felt Her hands stroke over his entire back, soft enough to awaken only gentle echoes of pain. Seemingly satisfied, She moved on down his legs, carefully turning his ankles before moving back up the bed. He felt a kiss to the crown of his head and shivered slightly in satisfaction. Her hands continued with each of his arms, rotating his sore shoulders and lingering on his wrists. Done, Will felt Her move away and started to rise to move after Her.

"Hush now, lovey. Lay back down." Reassured, he complied and She returned, settling a light blanket over his legs before he felt the surface he was on dip as She laid alongside him, slipping an arm underneath his chest to pull his head onto Her shoulder. "Good boy."

Content, he turned his head into Her neck and relaxed into the buzzing silence of his head.

It was some time later that Will surfaced, contentment warring with a dry, sore throat and the ache of stiffening muscles. His eyes reluctantly agreed to open and he stirred slightly in the effort. A hand cupped the back of his head and he relaxed before he recognized the owner.

"Hey there," Magnus softly whispered. "Welcome back."

He made a rough noise of acknowledgement, dry throat protesting the sound. Magnus' hands shifted at the gruff note, pushing his chest up slightly to raise his head off of her shoulder. The burn across his back prompted a groan before she eased him onto another pillow, propping him up. Eyes closed again, Will felt a pressure against his lips and let the straw slip into his mouth, pulling in a small sip of warm water. After a few more sips, he no longer suspected that the Sahara had taken up residence in his mouth. Sighing, he let the straw fall away and sank into the pillows, ignoring his back.

"Cold?" he heard her ask and only then did Will realize that he was starting to lightly shiver. Before he could answer, a light warmth was pulled up to cover his back. Insistently, Magnus' hands returned and skillfully removed the extra pillow, lowering him back down to her shoulder.

Will let the contentment resurface and basked in the warmth and the hand gently combing through his hair. He pushed the ache away for as long as possible before his body started to involuntarily shift to rid itself of the discomfort.

"Sh," Magnus soothed, lowering him prone on the bed and moving to his side. Carefully, she worked his shoulders over, massaging the stressed muscles until he relaxed back into the bed. Covering his back once more, she moved to lie down again. This time, Will scooted onto her shoulder himself. With a soft laugh, she brought her hand up to card through his hair again.

After some time of this, Magnus' voice broke the silence gently.

"How's your head now?"

Will let himself appreciate the peace in his skull before answering in a warm tone, "Silent. Nice." He huffed a small laugh, "Empty."

He smiled at her echoing laugh, "Oh, I very much doubt that." She smoothed down the tendons at the base of his neck, rolling her thumb into the surrounding muscles. "No tension, no pain?"

"Uh uh," he murmured, "S'nice."

"Now, Will," he began to tense as much as his languid muscles would allow him, "Sh, calm down. I need to ask this," Magnus paused and stroked her hand over his head again until he settled, "Why didn't you come to me about this?"

"I," he paused to consider all of the reasons that he hadn't consciously considered before, "Mainly because I didn't know you knew about this… thing. I didn't know how to tell you," he admitted in a small voice, "I always took care of it. I thought you might think… I thought you might not like it."

"You thought I might think less of you," Magnus stated calmly.

Closing his eyes, Will managed to nod into her shoulder.

"Will," she said softly, "pay attention." A light tug to his hair immediately focused him on her voice. "I know you. You always act for what you believe is right. We don't always agree on what that is, I'll admit, but you never have less than the best of intentions. Nothing you might do could lower my opinion of you, because I trust the judgment of that hardworking head of yours," she pressed her lips to his temple briefly, "and the compassionate heart underneath it even more. Understand?"

A short nod was all he could muster, trying to stem the tears leaking out around the corners of his eyes. He hated how emotional he always was after. Normally, he was also alone.

"Good," she finished quietly, tucking his head further into her neck and gently rocking them until he successfully willed the tears away.

"If I'd been thinking straight," he mused aloud minutes later, "I suppose I could have just gone to another town. Although I don't know her reach," he finished in a mumble, "I guess I have some time before I'll have to find that out."

"Never you mind about that. Next time I suspect your usual options will be open once more," Will started at the underlying steel in her tone.

"How," he began before his comprehension caught up with him and he started over, "Magnus, its fine. I may not have appreciated my situation, but I don't blame her for her reaction. It was perfectly normal."

"Turning you down is one thing, Will, or even breaking off the relationship. Preventing you from receiving the attention you needed and risking your health and well-being? Quite another matter." The anger was closer to the surface this time and he sensed that now was not the time to pursue this avenue. Hopefully, he would have time to bleed it off of her in another setting before Abby found herself facing a vengeful Magnus alone. He could almost bring himself to feel sorry for her in that case.

"I think she might have done me a favor, inadvertently," Will turned the subject, trying to lighten the tone of the room.

"Oh, really?" her tone edged into humor, permitting him to distract her from the anger.

"Mm hmm," he stretched lightly, "You've been holding out on me, Magnus. You are way better at this than anyone I've been with before."

"I'm not sure you're entirely objective right now," she sounded amused, lightly scratching at the base of his neck.

"No, really," he began to list points, lightly tapping her collarbone for each addition. "You don't let me hide anything, which is good; in retrospect, at least. You have a certain commanding presence that you use to good effect – I now know how you always get your way," he mused, earning a gentle flick to his right ear. Grinning, he continued, "You definitely know how to use the tools and what they can do." After that point, he trailed off for a minute in reflection. Coming back with a start mid-hum, he cleared his throat sheepishly. "Uh, like I said, knowledgeable." That rated him a low laugh, softened by another kiss to his forehead. "Yeah, you also have that magic sixth sense about when I need, um," he blushed a little at his admittance and reflected deep in his mind that he must be incredibly relaxed to be saying all of this so glibly, "well, gentleness, I guess. That's not really something I've found before."

Magnus' hand stopped brushing through his wayward hair suddenly.

"I wasn't complaining," Will hurried to add, afraid that she was offended.

"No," she said, shaking her head and continuing her motions, "I'm just curious what you mean by that."

"Um, you know, touching me during the scene, stopping to tell me it's okay when I freak out a little, checking with me between tools, uh, well, this," his hand made a spastic sort of motion towards them. "It's way beyond the expected."

Will began to wonder if he actually had offended her anyway when silence settled between them for a short spell after his description.

"Tell me," Magnus finally asked, "how did you find the people you've been going to see all this time?"

"Um," he blinked at the unexpected question. "Well, I met Doug at this club downtown shortly after I moved here. After a few drinks, we, uh, sort of figured out that he liked one thing, I liked the other, and it kinda worked out. He introduced me to Serena and Mike later on. Why?"

"Will," she huffed in exasperation.

"What?" he asked, honestly confused.

"I had, optimistically it seems, assumed you were going to someone with some experience in these matters," Magnus continued in the same tone.

"What?" he repeated, "They did. Do. I mean, they'd been with other people in, um, this capacity before. Well, Doug and Serena had anyway and they helped Mike out."

"Let me guess how it went," she had switched to a dryly sarcastic voice, which Will decided wasn't much of an improvement. "You go in and strip. Whoever is with you that time comes in, yells at you, and proceeds to beat you as he or she prefers. Scene over, you exit stage left. Accurate?" Before he could answer, another thought seemed to occur to her and she abandoned the sarcasm to pose another question, "At least tell me they knew how to use the equipment?"

"Uh, yes, that's kind of how it went. Is, isn't that right?" His voice slowly dropped in volume, "And they knew how to use stuff. At least," he was whispering by this point, "I think so. It was different than you, so, I don't know. I'm sorry. I didn't, I'm," he mumbled off into inaudibility, burying himself into her shoulder once more and feeling two inches tall. The tears he'd managed to avert before came sneaking back into play, squeezing out through his tightly shut lids. He felt her sigh and cringed in preparation for being tossed onto the bed alone.

Instead, the arm he was laying on wrapped around him carefully, tugging Will closer to her, while her other hand returned to cup the back of his head, "Sh, sh, laddie. It's alright. I'm sorry. It's not your fault. You didn't know. I should have looked into all of this long before."

Soothed, but still tentative, he remained quiet, seeing what would happen next. After his tears had dried, Magnus continued to simply hold him and he grew drowsy and calm. When a question occurred to him, he hesitated only slightly before breaking the quiet.

"Um, How, that is, if you don't mind," he stumbled a little until she silently began to card through his hair, "How did you know about this in the first place? I don't think I've let anything slip," he said contemplatively, "at least before now."


	5. Cooling Down

"Ah," she said softly, "I wondered when you would ask that. It's a fairly straight-forward story. When I decided to approach you about a position here, I consulted with James." Her tone turned warmly fond, "I've told you before how alike the two of you are in your abilities."

He smiled at the comparison, even as he privately considered that he would never remotely equal his hero.

"We covered all of the usual concerns, but then a few days later, I received a file concerning an overwhelming data influx that could possibly result from over-sensitive perception." Will started. Could she be implying what he thought she was saying?

"Dear James never did easily discuss personal matters directly, hence the file, but he forbore enough to include all of his personal notes about various private experiments he had attempted to contain the side effects and this particular solution, which seemed to work the best."

She was saying it. Watson had undergone this as well? Will could barely wrap his mind around the idea.

"It was quite thorough and gave me all of the information I needed to track your patterns and determine that you experienced the same symptoms. And that you had arrived at the same conclusion. I suspect James thought I would need to fill in once you came to the Sanctuary, a task I'm better suited to than I warrant he knew. Or perhaps not," she conceded with a chuckle, "it was James."

You learn not to look, he wanted to correct. Certainly, he had never anticipated this side of her, although the clues had been all around him. Learning not to look had been an early lesson, though, and one he often fell back on unconsciously. Watson had known her much longer, however, perhaps he had seen against his will – or had different boundaries than Will. Who knew.

"Even after you came here, though, every time I caught the beginning of an episode, you would disappear into the city and come back cleansed." Her arms tightened around him slightly, "I should have looked into your choice of partners more carefully, clearly, and it is an unforgivable oversight on my part."

"Magnus," Will protested, raising himself up on his elbows despite the pain so that he could see her face. She looked stricken and he hastened to alleviate the emotion, "No one could possibly blame you. I'm a grown man. I'm certainly allowed to make my own choices and decisions."

"What if it had been Kate, Will? If it was Kate abused on our watch, would you still be so sanguine?" She reached out to cup his chin and trace his cheekbone with her thumb as he gaped at her.

"Abused? Look," he winced at the increasing pain in his back and let her settle him back on the bed, "I know that it was a bit rougher than this, but it was all consensual. I agreed to let them do those things to me. That's not abuse."

"It's not the strictest definition of abuse, no," Magnus conceded, "but to take the trust someone… the trust that you gave them and break it however they pleased is certainly a form of abuse. Worse still, they convinced you that they had every right."

"They did," he argued plaintively, "I told them it was okay,"

"What did you tell them was 'okay,' Will?" she asked patiently.

"That they could do whatever they liked," he answered confidently.

"And did they ask any more questions than that?"

"No," he frowned, confused, "That sort of covers all the bases."

He pretended not to hear the hastily muffled sigh above him.

"You said that there was no 'gentleness,'" she pushed on, "Did they tell you what was going to happen before it did? Give out warnings or explain punishments? Lay any ground rules or give you a means to tell them it was going too far? Supply any sort of aftercare whatsoever?"

Will carefully picked apart her questions, trying to figure out how to answer.

"I don't think so," he said cautiously, "but I thought part of the point was to be surprised? And why should they explain things to me – it doesn't really matter if it's going to happen anyway, right? And… well, those are the big ones. I think."

"Surprise can play an element, certainly, but the point of the scene is not to have you terrified every second of what is coming next. The point," she clarified before he could ask, "is to let you reach that place in your head where you trust the other person implicitly to take care of what you need."

"The floating sort of place?" Will asked, curious enough to interrupt her. "That was nice."

"Yes, the 'floating place,'" she answered patiently, "Normally called sub-space."

"Oh, I read about that before," he realized, "I didn't really get it, though."

"Yes, well, getting you to sub-space is generally part of the goal of a scene like this. Not always, but generally. And as for explaining not mattering – understanding what is happening and why, knowing that there's logic and rules in play, that helps you let go and trust, Will. This is supposed to be about trust, not just pain. Some may enjoy that, but you are not one of them."

Will processed her points in silence for a while, comparing it with his experiences and trying to figure out the framework of what he wanted from everything. With shame, he reflected that he should have put this much consideration into it before. These were things he should have known before he dabbled in the playing field.

"You must have some more questions," Magnus lightly commented, "I can hear your brain gearing up to overclock itself once again."

"Um," this was the perfect opportunity, even if he was beginning to feel like an idiot for not knowing anything about this after all this time. "Actually, uh, what did you mean by 'giving me a way out'? And, well, I assume this sort of thing is, um, 'aftercare,' did you call it? Is that usual?"

He reconsidered the wisdom of asking more questions when he felt he stiffen below him once more in a reaction he was learning to classify as suppressed anger.

"'Giving you a way out' is your safe word, Will," she said slowly. "Remember what I told you about a safe word when we first began."

"James," the name came easily to his lips, "I remember."

"Good boy," the praise still sent a happy jolt through him and he relaxed into her a bit more. "Now, do you know what to do with it?"

"I guess," he speculated slowly, "that you use it to tell someone that you don't like something? So they know to maybe move on?"

"Not exactly," the measured tones didn't fool Will. He knew she used those to conceal whatever emotion she was actually trying to suppress. "If you use your safe word, everything stops until I figure out what went wrong and if you can or want to continue." Tucking him closer to her once more, Magnus elaborated, "It's your protection, Will, to make sure that I never go too far or hurt you in anyway. Hurting you in any permanent way is not the point here," she carefully stressed, "You use your safe word if the pain or the situation becomes overwhelming and past what you can bear or if you feel as though things have gotten out of control. This type of scene pushes boundaries; it can make it hard to tell if a participant is in the scene or overwhelmed by it, hence a safe word, which makes it very clear."

"Oh," Will said quietly. Actually, there were a few times in the past when that would have been… nice. The poker, he shuddered, or the foot caning. He fisted his hand in her shirt, wishing that they'd had this talk sooner, no matter how mortifying it would have been in any other situation.

After a short pause, Magnus picked up her train of thought, "And yes, this is aftercare. At least one form of it, the type I've always preferred. I can make sure you're well and coming down fine in a manner that's reassuring to both of us. Some people like to be alone, or immediately surrounded by a group, or go to their sexual partners. It's about providing comfort to both parties. Now," she paused slightly, "from your reactions, I didn't think you wanted to be left alone and you seem to be responding positively to this. The others, this Doug and his friends," she couldn't keep the censure out of her voice, "I assume they left you alone?"

"Um, yeah, pretty much." Given her previous reactions to the subject, Will decided to withhold the details on this count. With Doug and Mike, he had used a club room. Afterwards, Doug liked to go trolling in the club for a girl to actually sleep with. Mike preferred to head home to his girlfriend. The most vivid memories he had of the aftermaths were shivering in a back room until he was calm and pain-free enough to leave. Serena had been the worst come down, though. She wanted to use her own basement, because it meant greater privacy. All well and good, except that she also wanted to go clubbing immediately afterwards, meaning that he had to leave immediately as well. Shivering, he remembered the chilly night that he'd wound up spending in his car until he felt that he was safe enough to drive early the next morning.

"I like this better," he softly admitted.

"Me too," Magnus agreed, bestowing another kiss to his temple.

"Is that why I hurt less?" he asked, emboldened.

"That depends," she said slowly, "on what kind of pain you mean."

"My muscles and, um, my back, too," he shifted uneasily, not certain how she would take this part.

"I made certain not to draw blood," she answered tentatively, as though not entirely certain what question she was answering, "certainly not on the first time before we had a chance to talk about your preferences. And I did try to ease your muscles, but you will be sore for several days, Will, even if you're relatively comfortable now."

"I know," he reassured her, "but I meant that I feel like I can move and… I don't know how to explain it. I don't need to bandage anything up, I guess."

The slow exhalation and inhalation from above him clued Will in that something in his sentence had been taken amiss.

"Nevermind," he said quickly, "I didn't say it right, anyway."

"No, I'm sorry, Will," Magnus tugged his hand from where it still clung to her shirt to wrap it in her own. "I want you to feel comfortable coming to me with these questions. It's just giving my ability to reign in my temper a work out. You know how bad I am at that at the best of times," she teased.

"Oh yeah," he said, over-dramatically, "and no one ever believes me when I say that Vesuvius has nothing on you."

The arm he was laying on shifted as she curled a finger into his ribs. Laughing, he twitched away, pulling against his back and the laugh faded into a slight gasp.

"Okay, no more tickling," he demanded, "That hurts!"

"Only if you try to escape," Magnus chuckled wickedly, but smoothed a hand down his side as he settled once more.

Before Magnus could return to his question, Will's stomach loudly interrupted with a vicious growl.

"Apparently I should feed you," she commented as he blushed hotly, wishing he could sink through the mattress.

"Sorry," he muttered into her shoulder.

"Nonsense," she laughed, "Let's find you some clothes, shall we, and then stage a raid on the kitchen."

"A covert raid?" Will asked skeptically, "The Big Guy always knows."

"I happen to know that he's busy over in the parish tonight," her hands slid under his chest to help raise him upright, "So it's the perfect time for illicit rummaging."

"Tonight?" he blinked, staring around the room at the lack of windows, "What time is it? How long have we been here?"

"Several hours," Magnus replied as Will caught on and started to help her ease him onto his knees, "We've missed dinner, I'm afraid, but at least our raid will go unnoticed."

Stunned and unthinking, he sat back to contemplate where the time had gone, forgetting that he wouldn't be sitting comfortably for some days. With a yelp, he shot up to his knees, but overbalanced, starting to slide off of the bed before Magnus caught him.

"Standing might be best for now," she observed, holding his weight up until he got his legs under him and stepped gingerly off of the bed.

"Yes," he said, through gritted teeth, "I think I got that message."

"Good," Magnus said, sounding not at all sorry. Will blinked, before remembering what had prompted the worst of the paddling. Blushing, he made a point of looking around for his clothes noticeably, grateful for the distraction.

"Over on the chair, Will," she suggested, rising to her feet gracefully.

Graceful was not within his repertoire at the moment, but he managed to make it over to the chair, nonetheless. Getting the boxers and jeans on pulled at the marks across his back, but it was nothing compared to the pressure they put on his backside and lower back once they were settled around his waist. Taking a few deep breaths, he reached for his shirt, wincing as he raised his arms to slip it on and the cloth slipped over the stripes. Will considered the second shirt. Nope, not happening, and he turned his attention to the socks and shoes.

Never before had he realized how very far his feet were from his hands.

Gingerly, he tried to sit on the edge of the chair, but quickly gave that up as a lost cause. Cringing in preparation, he slowly lifted his left foot onto the chair, swiftly pulling on sock and shoe without even bothering to untie the latter. After a few more breaths, he repeated the process with his right foot.

"Ready?" At the familiar voice behind him, Will turned to see that the room had been placed back in order once more while he struggled with his clothing.

"Yeah," he shrugged sheepishly, "but I think this week might be a loose slacks and slip-on shoes kind of week."

Magnus nodded, "A good plan." Gesturing towards the door, she motioned him out ahead of herself, "Shall we?"

Will paused before it. "Um, you need to unlock it."

"Is it locked?" He looked back over his shoulder at the playful note in her voice. She raised an eloquent eyebrow.

Facing forwards again, he reached out and turned the door handle. It gave easily under his hand and swung open to reveal the hallway.

"How?" he stopped himself mid-sentence, "You're not going to tell me how you did that, are you?"

"Now what kind of woman gives up all of her secrets, Will?" A hand on his arm ushered him out of the room and he watched closely as she locked it behind them.


	6. At Rest

Wandering through the halls half ridiculously happy still at her company and half beginning to worry about what exactly he'd revealed back in the room was an interesting experience. Eager to distract himself, Will posed a question he'd been contemplating since the key had disappeared back into her pocket.

"How long has that room been there? You know," he clarified with a slight blush, "like that?"

"It wasn't added strictly for your benefit, if that's what you're curious about," Magnus stated. Will's blush deepened as he had been worried about that thought exactly. Bad enough she had to do this for him, it'd be worse if she'd been planning it for years, "Although I did make a few modifications shortly after James' communique."

He considered asking about the details of those alterations. No, some things he didn't really want to know tonight.

In a feat of impeccable timing, they reached the kitchens at that moment. Saved by the refrigerator – not quite as catchy, somehow, but effective.

"What are you in the mood for?" he breezed around the preparation table centered in the kitchen, to scope out the fridge. "Sandwiches, omelets," he paused in thought for a moment before turning back towards her, "this isn't another one of those things you're ridiculously good at, is it?"

It startled a laugh from her.

"No, Will," Magnus smiled, "I think it's safe to say that cooking is not among my talents." Her smile turned wistful, "Nigel always said that as a cook, I made a good chemist. Nikola, of course, just accused me of trying to poison him," she wrinkled her nose.

"Oh, good," Will breathed in relief, before explaining himself at her look of mock-outrage, "I just meant that you won't be too distressed at my omelet skills."

"I'm sure they'll be lovely," she said, letting a hint of placation creep into her tone.

"Careful," he warned, "or I'll find some cauliflower to stuff into yours. I'm sure the Big Guy has that somewhere in here."

Magnus blinked, "How on earth?"

With a wicked smile, Will turned back to liberating eggs and cheese from the fridge, "Now what kind of man gives up all of his secrets, Magnus?"

The laugh he heard from the table softened his wickedness slightly, "Touché."

Nabbing a skillet from the wall rack, he tried lightly, "Guess that's not one of the things I blurted out like a madman, huh?" He wasn't sure it worked as a joke exactly.

Hearing Magnus slip off of the stool that she'd pulled up to the table confirmed his fear and he wasn't surprised at the touch to his elbow a beat later.

"Sorry," he muttered, setting the paring knife down, but not turning, "Not my best joke, I know."

"Will," the touch turned into a tug, prompting him to face her. He did so reluctantly, needing the tap on his chin to look up into understanding blue eyes, "I will never use what you say against you, alright? Your percipience is a marvel and the fact that you trust me with it a gift, one that I will never abuse." His eyes flickered to her shoulder, before her hand sliding over to cup his cheek drew his attention back, "Understand?"

His throat too tight to speak, he nodded and took a deep breath.

"Good," she said with a nod, before leaning over to kiss his temple, "Now, I was promised an omelet, I believe."

Will turned back to the cutting board with a grin, "Is that a hint that I'm moving too slow for you?"

"No," Magnus poked a finger in the general direction of his ribs, grinning when he curved away and winced, "My hints are much more subtle," was tossed over her shoulder as she made her way back towards her stool.

"Hm," he hummed loudly, before dropping down to say in an audible whisper, "Subtle like a mallet."

"What was that?" she asked, loudly, although Will knew perfectly well that she'd heard him by the laughter in her tone.

"I said, 'subtle' is how I'd describe it," he lied smoothly.

"Perhaps you ought to focus that cheek on those eggs," she suggested archly.

Smiling broadly, he did.

They were delicious.

"Now," Magnus swirled her fork through an escaping tendril of cheese, "how have you managed to hide this skill from us all these years?" Tracking down an elusive onion, she slid the fork between her lips with a happy sigh, "Heaven knows, I would have trapped you down here ages ago had I known."

Will smiled shyly, "A friend of mine taught me the basics – very basics – a long while back." He smiled wistfully and shifted his weight where he was standing on the other side of the table, "She said that if you could do the simple things very well, it was more impressive than doing some elaborate thing sorta well. She also mentioned," he pointed at Magnus with his fork, "not to let on, otherwise I'd find myself shackled to an oven. Clearly, she was psychic." Serenely, he ate the last bite of his own omelet.

She looked at him with a calculating air and a glint of mischief in her eye, "What else do these 'basics' cover?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" grinning, he slipped her plate away from her and carried it with his own over to the sink. He didn't know if it was just the freedom from the unrelenting pain or not having to hide the entire mess from absolutely everyone was a contributing factor, but Will felt downright giddy. At least Magnus seemed to be taking his high spirits in stride. Rinsing the plates quickly, he added them to the dishwasher, before turning around with a satisfied spin. He found her watching him with a small smile and a speculative twist to her mouth.

"What?" he asked, only half-concerned.

"It's nice to see you this happy," she said, surprisingly. Will blinked, "and I'm wondering when you're going to crash and fall asleep on the floor."

"I don't feel tired at all," he protested.

"Hm. I know," she agreed, "and how much sleep have you gotten lately?"

"Um," Will thought back and frowned. "Not much, actually. It's been," he waved hand at his head, "hard."

"Come along," she stood and motioned for him to follow her towards the door. "My office," she answered his questioning look, "I can bring you up to date on the Sanctuary business you've been neglecting recently and when you do pass out, it will hopefully be on something soft."

He ducked his head at the gentle rebuke, frowning at the floor, "I'm sorry. I know I haven't been… well, useful at all."

"Provided it's a one-time occurrence, I think we can overlook the matter," Will looked up to Magnus waiting for him in the doorway. She raised an eyebrow, "I believe you were already sufficiently punished and then promised to remedy the situation, remember?" He blinked in confusion before he got the reference and blushed violently. Smirking, she returned to the subject at hand, "Now, are you coming?"

Nodding silently, he followed her, thinking over her condition of sorts. He couldn't actually promise that it would be one-time. What if Abby kept her promise to keep him away from everybody in the city? What if he couldn't go back to the others with all of this new information he had now? What if it got really bad and nothing worked – a long-time fear of his? Although in the last case, he guessed, they'd probably just lock him up somewhere. Will shivered.

Will came back to the present when he felt Magnus' finger trail over the center of his forehead, "Out with it."

Blinking, he looked around and realized that they'd made it to her office with him unaware. He stared at Magnus, who was well within the personal space in front of him.

"With what?" he asked, confused.

"With whatever is bringing this line back," she repeated her motion down his forehead. "What's worrying you?"

"I," he hesitated, looking back to see that she'd even managed to shut her office doors without him noticing. He started to pace. "What if it's not a one-time thing?"

"What do you mean?" her voice moved as she went to sit on the sofa and watched him pace.

"It's… I mean, Abby can be stubborn," Will finally arrived at, conversational skills somewhat deserting him.

"Do you really believe I can't handle one minor FBI agent?" she sounded amused, with a hint of insulted.

"Even then," his thoughts mapped out the options available: with Abby or not, former partners or seeking out new ones, and he stopped talking while he counted out his steps from the fireside to the edge of the coffee table and back.

"Even then?" Magnus finally prompted.

"Even then," he repeated, before trailing off again. He slowed down to a halt in front of the fire, gazing down into the flames. "What do I do?" he whispered to himself.

Will heard the sofa shift as she rose and joined him at the fireplace, "Well, I'm not comfortable with you returning to your old partners," she admitted candidly. "So I would say that your options are to let me refer you to a more reputable establishment that I know will take care of you or," she hesitated herself, until he looked over at her, curious.

"Or?" he was slightly amused at the role-reversal.

"I am always available to you, Will," she stated softly, "I hope you know that. In whatever capacity you need."

Instinctively, Will opened his mouth to decline, though gently. Something made him close it again, however, and consider. His old partners were out and, though he probably wouldn't admit it to her, that fact mainly brought a sense of relief. They had been necessary, but in the same unpleasant way as getting a cavity filled and with much the same after effect: nausea and numbness fading into pain. Magnus had been completely different. He was, mostly, unsurprised. After all, when hadn't she been completely outside of his experience and everything he needed? He could go to someone new. Will knew her well enough to know that whoever he went to now would be completely vetted by Magnus and run through more background checks than he even knew existed. It would never be like the old way again, whichever he chose… but could anyone come close to her?

In complete honesty, Will knew that this would never be easy for him and, to be fair, he would never make it easy on the other person, either. He also knew that he was good enough at body language, at giving people what they expected and wanted, that he would be able to pull some of the same tricks that he always had. Hide this bit of information, shade that fact another way, distract and derail and never let go completely. Getting away with that again would be easy and there was a comfort in that, in knowing that he could protect himself and not really have to let someone else control him.

Magnus would never let him get away with it.

Oh, he might slip a few tricks past her once and briefly, but he doubted it would last too long and he would bet even money she could make him regret it deeply. That was terrifying. Also, in a way that he didn't completely understand, intoxicating with a different sort of comfort, a kind that meant he wouldn't have to pretend and strategize. He knew he would be safe.

Frowning, he considered that statement. Trust wasn't something he just gave away. Would he ever be able to trust someone new like he did Magnus? Well, no, because despite her ability to perform miracles, Will doubted that even she could produce another her. A deep part of him had entrusted her implicitly since he was eight; it wasn't really something that could be replicated.

Though, it might be a drawback as well as a gift. They were partners, mentor-and-protégé, confidants, fearless leader and loyal second in command, and close friends. Adding another layer – what if that put too much strain on their already complex and somewhat intense relationship?

"I don't want to lose you," Will admitted aloud, presenting the conclusion of his arguments and hoping that she could follow his trail.

"You won't," Magnus replied, easily, as though she had been listening in his head and expecting the argument. "Yes, it's another facet to our relationship, but Will, remember, it is one of which I have always been aware. Not as much will change as you fear."

"Being aware and being a participant are different things though, Magnus," he argued, wanting her to fully understand the dilemma. "You have to admit that there are times when being friend and employer is a hard balance to maintain, right? Then, it would be friend and employer and… this too." He trailed off somewhat awkwardly, uncertain of the proper term.

"Difficult, yes, but we've made it work, Will. I suspect this would be easier to fit in simply because it suits only one setting where the other two will not hold sway."

"Can you be sure of that? What if this thing interferes with work in some way – like it has been recently? Or what if I pick up on something that will impact our friendship? It can't just be divided into neat boxes," Will pressed.

"We would be doing this so that it wouldn't interfere with the Sanctuary, remember? Had I taken you in hand a few weeks ago, this would not have occurred. And I hope that our friendship would be able to weather whatever you might 'pick up' about me or my life." She smiled a bit bleakly, "Surely you realize that you already know the worst bits, anyway."

Will ran a hand over his face, torn.

"Will," Magnus tugged his arm down and wrapped his hand in hers, "you don't have to decide tonight. If you want to go to someone else, that is perfectly fine. If you want to stay with me, that's fine as well. Why don't you take some time to consider it?"

He nodded, but his mind kept flickering over what he wanted and what he feared the cost of following it might be in the end.

"Come," she pulled him towards the sofa before letting go, "you've missed a most interesting case that Kate found last week."

Nodding again absently, he found his way back to where the conversation had begun: her assuming that his close-to-a-break-down was a one-time shot and him fearing the reverse.

"For Watson," he asked over the flipping sounds of her papers, "did it get better or worse over time?"

"What?" she sounded startled.

"Did he always have to do this? Did it escalate? Or was it not as bad to begin with?" Will struggled to keep the entreaty out of his voice along with the real questions he was trying not to ask. Will this get worse? Will I go crazy? Then what will you do with me?

"Oh, Will." From the pained note in her voice, he could guess that he didn't manage as well as he would have liked. Or that she just knew him far too well.

"I just…" he fell silent, turning back to stare at the fire again. Closing his eyes, he tried to push himself back to where he was in the kitchen. Instead, he just felt cold.

Then she was there again, blanket settling over his shoulders in that psychic sense that could be so annoyingly wonderful, leading him to the sofa where he remembered just in time not to sit down.

"It's alright," she said softly, pushing him downwards. "Sit sideways, here. See?" With some tugging and a bit of wincing, she leaned him against the arm of the couch, somehow not pressing against anything sore. Papers rustling pulled him back from the heavy bleakness and the sound was followed by Magnus' arms rearranging him again as she took the place of the sofa's arm, coaxing him to slide down a bit more to rest his head in her lap. Exhaustion poured over him thickly, but he clung to awareness, hoping that she'd answer his questions – both the ones he said and the ones he didn't. Just when he thought that maybe he should give up, she settled completely and began to comb through his hair as she started to talk.

"James approached it differently, I believe. Instead of waiting until the breaking point, he intervened as soon as any symptoms presented themselves." Magnus paused a moment in thought, "You could view it as a steady burn, instead of a sudden brush fire. In any case, his files indicate that his control improved over the years as his abilities leveled out and he developed ways of managing the influx through meditation and thought exercises. Which all goes to say," she moved to run the back of her fingers over his cheek, "that you will be fine, Will. You're every bit as capable as James, I know."

"What if," he said, indistinctly through the sleep haze, "I go crazy again? What if nothing works?"

"You didn't 'go crazy,' Will," she sighed, lowering her voice still further, "The staff treating you had no idea what they were dealing with and, I swear," he could hear her softly mutter in dark tones, "they reveled in their ignorance, instead of seeking out another opinion. They exacerbated the problem. You would never have gone so far on your own." Perhaps sensing that he was unconvincable in his moody, tired state, she moved on, "In any case, I will never give up on you, Will. I promise. Surely you know that by now?"

Sleepily, he nodded. That sounded right, like Magnus, never willing to let anything go, even if it was hurting her. Which might make her promise a bad thing, but he felt lighter with it and decided that maybe he could wait until the morning to not need it any more. That seemed like it could make sense.

"Good," Magnus said, in response to something he'd forgotten, "Now go to sleep, Will. I'll be here in the morning."

That was the last thing he heard as the waves pulled him under peacefully for the first time in a long, long while.


End file.
